


"Drink for him."

by MysticalAuthoress



Category: Panic Room: House of Secrets
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drunkenness, Gen, Panic Room Underground route spoilers, spoilers for Season 1 of Panic Room, spoilers for Season 2 of Panic Room, takes place during Panic Room Season 2, underground route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 16:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14288637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticalAuthoress/pseuds/MysticalAuthoress
Summary: Ryan pulls Jim back from the brink...and maybe pushes him back into it again.





	"Drink for him."

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Season 1 and Season 2 of Panic Room: House of Secrets if you take the Underground route. 
> 
> This fic is based off what Jim said to the player after trying to thank Ryan for the defilibrator: “I talked to Ryan just once. He pulled from the other side, when I almost fell there for the first time. Just came and handed me a glass of wine and ordered me to drink it. Then he poured me more and more…And in the morning he was gone. I would have thought it was a dream, if there hadn’t been an empty bottle under the sofa.”

_Jim._

_Jim._

_Come on, wake up_ _—!_

A slap to his cheek brought Jim into a dizzying world. A cacophony of sounds greeted his ears, and he raised his hands to cover his ears, a groan escaping him. Shutting his eyes, he took a deep breath, though it came out shakier than anything.

Ryan huffed, perched on the arm of the sofa, before pouring the doctor a glass of wine. “You almost fell over there.” He managed. He offered the glass to him. “Drink.”

“Ryan,” Jim’s voice still felt shaky, and he still felt shaky as he lowered his arms to his sides, “You know I can’t just…”

“Just drink something, will you?” The other snapped, eyes narrowing. “Drink for him. For Jack. You haven’t had anything for hours.”

_Jack…_ Jim heaved another breath. Jack was insane to do what he did, really. To try blowing up the house to get out? Really? He knew his little brother had wild ideas, but this was just too much.

Jim decided to take the glass and drink it. Ryan did not stop watching him as he did so.

He gave the man the empty glass, but then stared as Ryan simply refilled it and offered it to him.

“Ryan, that’s enough,” Jim felt a bit more…stable. “I should get some proper fluids in more than just alcohol _—_ ”

“You’re letting a fucking _ghost_ suck the life out of you.” Ryan pushed. “At least have a good drink while you can.”

Jim surrendered. He still felt weak, weak from what little he could do to keep Jack alive, and he surely wasn’t thinking straight as he took that second glass.

“Drink.”

A third glass.

_“Drink for him.”_

Fourth…

Gods, he got dizzy. Rarely did Jim drink so much in one go, but he could not resist the bitter taste, the lull it gave him as he kept consuming _more._

Ryan's face blurred before him, mouth still moving, eyes staring deeper and deeper into him, but Jim couldn’t hear what he was saying anymore. Jim couldn’t help but wonder what was scarier—his life being lost to supernatural forces he never thought actually existed, or Ryan’s insistence on him drinking.

Jack needed him to stay alive. Jack needed Jim’s life to stay alive, at least for now.

Jim couldn’t help but hope and pray, amidst the drinking, that Jack would make it. That Jim himself would make it, too.

Was it all for naught, what he was doing? It was something, at least. Right?

For all the bickering and fighting they had, they were still brothers. Still family.

Jim _knew_ he had to hold on, even if he felt like losing himself.

Everything blurred, everything muted, and he couldn’t taste wine anymore…

And then, nothing. 

* * *

 

He woke up. Sharpness entered his head immediately, and a groan escaped him. Everything felt blurry.

What happened last night?

_Drink for him._

Ryan’s words repeated in his head, and Jim looked to where Ryan once was.

Ryan wasn’t there anymore.

All of that drinking from last night, was that just a dream?

As he stood up, to stretch his legs and arms, his foot hit something. He blinked, looking down.

An open, empty wine bottle lay on the floor, half of it peeking out from under the sofa.

As he picked up the bottle, observing it in the light of the room, he knew that last night was no dream.

_(Inside, he wished for it to happen again. Perhaps at a later time, when his brother’s life wasn’t at stake. And maybe Ryan could be there the whole time for that later time, too.)_


End file.
